Like Father, Like Son
by undeniablebloodlust
Summary: Dark themes:Rape suicidal thoughts.Draco makes a terrible mistake and now he and Hermione must live with the consequences of his actions. Will they be able to get passed this or will Hermione forsake Draco for what he did especially when a new development
1. Like Father, Like Son

**Okay, so this is a story that I started a while ago and I'm only just putting it up. Let me know what you think please? This is just the prologue. If you like it I'll keep posting. **

**Summary: Draco makes a terrible mistake and now he and Hermione must live with the consequences of his actions. Will they be able to get passed this, or will Hermione forever forsake Draco for what he did, especially when a new development makes matters worse?**

**WARNING: This story contains dark themes; rape, suicidal tendencies and whatnot. If you don't like that type of stuff, then don't read this story.  
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**Prologue: Like Father Like Son**

_Remorse. Shame. Revulsion. Horror…_

Those are some of the emotions that follow an indiscretion such as rape. Well, only for the poor sod unlucky enough to obtain a conscience after the act...

_Remorse_:

_I've ruined both of our lives._

He'd never meant to hit her, to deliver a blow so forceful, it sent her hurtling to the floor.

_Shame_:

_Gods, I can't even look myself in the mirror, anymore._

He'd never meant to get so carried away. But, as she crashed to the ground, she thumped her head on the coffee table, rendering her vulnerable and unconscious.

_Revulsion_:

_I'm a fucking monster._

He'd never meant to desecrate the one girl who was completely untouchable. He just couldn't stop. She was so beautiful.  
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It was a regular Monday afternoon. He'd gone to class and then straight to the Heads Common Room for once a week, he'd meet with Granger to discuss certain tasks and duties. And-as always-they'd argued.

Rows were a common occurrence for them. They could never seem to get through their Head duties without bickering. But, this time…this time something just _snapped_.

Whether it was the crushing weight of his obligation to his family, or the frustration at having to act like a right bastard all the time, he'd never know. Or perhaps it was the long-pent-up feelings he'd harbored for the Know-It-All. Either way…

He lost control.

His hand seemed to move of its own accord, as it came down on her face. _Hard_. She didn't even see it coming. There was a loud thud, as her head connected with the corner of the coffee table.

The fury clouded his logic, overtook his body, pushing his sense of right and wrong to a dark corner of his mind.

He worked off his clothes and knelt beside her limp figure.

He undressed her, his deft fingers removing her Hogwarts uniform and then her white, cotton undergarments.

In one swift and callous thrust, he broke through her barrier, grunting as she was incredibly tight.

The shock of pain roused Hermione from insentience with a gasp, but she refused to make any other sound as she grasped the situation, only letting her tears explicate what she was feeling. She was flooded with so many emotions. Pain was central, as he was pounding into her in a violent, almost animalistic manner.

It was too much to take-the terror, pain and anguish-and she was doused with an inertial, almost vacant, feeling.

With a rough, final thrust, he released his seed into her and rolled off, panting.

It only took one look into her vacant, caramel orbs to wake him from his angry stupor, to make him realize what he'd just done.  
***

_Horror_:

_Lucius would be proud._

He'd never meant to become his father…

**So...review? Let me know what you think please?**


	2. The AftermathDraco's Side

**Hey, guys. Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed and added my story to your alerts and faves. I feel like a giddy school girl every time I read your reviews. I'm glad you like the story so far and I hope you continue to enjoy it because I definitely enjoy writing it. We're in for a bumpy ride with Dramione _**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the story. They all belong to J.K. and I am making no profit. This story is purely for my own enjoyment, and yours too of course.**

**Now, lets carry on, shall we? This chappie is all Draco's mind running wild, after the awfulness of what he's done really hits him. Enjoy?**

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**Chapter 1: The Aftermath-Draco's Side  
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Draco hopped to his feet, away from the crying girl before him, as though he'd been burned. He pulled on his Hogwarts uniform, using graceless, harried movements.

What the _fuck_ had he just done?

"Granger I…I'm so s-sorry," he whispered in a pained voice. He didn't know if she'd heard him or not. She wouldn't acknowledge his presence, she just lay on the floor of their common room, undressed and sobbing. He backed away from her, slowly. His head was spinning and his heart was beating so painfully quickly that he thought it would pop out of his chest. He couldn't be there. He had to...he had to, "I-I have to go." He ran.

He bolted out the portrait whole and down the corridors, ignoring the weird looks he was receiving and knocking over a few first year Hufflepuffs in his haste.

He kept running, disregarding the stitch in his side and the way that every breath he took seemed to burn. He ran until he was gasping for air, until his legs cramped up and gave out from over-exertion.

He landed on his hands and knees near the Black Lake, gasping for breath, his heart furiously pounding away in his chest.

It wasn't supposed to happen that way. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He had wanted her for so long, it hurt and now he didn't know what to do. How had he let his anger control him that way? How could he have done such a horrible thing to such a wonderful person? He'd damaged her permanently in a span of no more than 30 minutes and now? Now she'd have to live with the fact that he'd taken advantage of her. _Raped_ her at her most vulnerable.

They'd both have to live with it.

He didn't know what had gotten into him. What he had been thinking. He had just gotten so upset. So _angry_ and there she was...so, so Granger. So annoyingly smart, so good, so _Gryffindor_. Always fighting for the light and forsaking the wrong. And Draco, himself, was the wrong. Which meant that she forsook him, which meant that no matter how hard he tried, he'd never have a chance with her.

Hermione Granger would never see him as anything other than the son of a Death Eater. A Death Eater himself, if she'd managed to catch a glimpse of the hideous mark on is left forearm, that is. A Muggle-hater, nonetheless...someone she was not supposed to associate herself with.

That thought alone had nearly driven him over the edge in the past...the fact that he'd probably never be with the only girl he'd ever truly wanted. Of course now he'd completely shattered his chances. As much as she had disliked him before, he was sure that she loathed him after what he'd done. She'd probably never want to see him again, and who could blame her? She was probably up at the headmaster's office at that very moment, recounting the entire sordid tale.

There would be aurors coming to find him in no time, only too pleased to drag him off to Azkaban and what could he do, but stick around and wait for them to come and take him away? He knew he'd done wrong. He knew he deserved to be put away for a _long _time.

Merlin, he was so scared. What would happen to him? What would his parents say? Well, he knew what his father would say. Something along the lines of, "Well done, son. That filthy mudblood got exactly what she deserved. She needed to be put in her place." The thought made him sick.

But, his mother...Draco knew she would be disappointed in him. Narcissa Malfoy had been the only person opposed to Draco taking the dark mark over the summer. She had said that the Dark Lord's threats against herself and her husband did not matter, so long as her only son could be saved from the life his father had chosen.

His mother was more accepting of muggles and muggle-borns. She'd tell him that no girl, muggle-born or otherwise, deserved to be taken by force. She would tell him that what he had done was inexcusable and she would never be able to look at him in the same way again...just like she could barely stand to look at his father after everything he'd put his family through. Sure she loved them both very much, but Lucius had done some terrible things and now Draco seemed to be following in his foot steps.

_No_, he thought. He definitely was not now, nor would he ever be following in his father's footsteps. Lucius was a monster and Draco...he'd just made a mistake. A one-time lapse in judgment. That didn't mean he was a monster as well, did it? _DID IT? _

The thing is that it wasn't just a mistake. He'd _raped_ a girl, and not just any girl at that. He'd raped Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's best mate.

As he finished that final thought, Draco glanced over his shoulder and about the grounds. Aurors were now the least of his worries...the Boy Who Lived himself would surely be hunting him down soon enough, ready to Avada Draco's sorry arse for what he'd done to Hermione. Well...he'd probably fit in a few Cruciatus curses and a dozen or so other torturous spells that would have Draco begging for mercy in no time.

And surely, he'd let Potter finish him off...he wouldn't fight back. After all, he deserved everything he got from then on. And if death was what he received for robbing Hermione Granger of her innocence, then he'd willingly take it.

Anything to rid him of his horrible sin and the overwhelming guilt that came with it.

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**Sooo? Review? Tell me what you think? **

**Next Chapter: Hermione...Dum dum dum! What will she think? What will she do? Will she tell? Je ne sais pas, mes amis...I guess you'll just have to stay tuned in order to find out :)  
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	3. The AftermathHermione's side

**Hey, guys. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I hope you all are enjoying the story so far. I love reading all of your guesses of what's going to happen and must say a few of you have come close, though I won't mention who (evil face). **

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the story. They all belong to J.K. and I am making no profit. This story is purely for my own enjoyment, and yours too of course.**

**Anyways, on to the next chapter. This is what's going on in Hermione's mind after the rape. Enjoy?**

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**Chapter 2: The Aftermath-Hermione's Side**

Hermione sobbed for what seemed like a lifetime. She lay there, broken and naked and shed her tears until the fire in the hearth dimmed and eventually burned out. She cried until the golden rays of the sun disappeared, only to be replaced by the silvery moonlight. She cried until she felt there were no more tears left to shed and then she sobbed some more.

Only when the clock began to chime, signaling the 10 o'clock hour, did Hermione wake from her stupor. Only then did she take the time to really contemplate the days events and once she did that, once she let herself relive the experience and thoroughly grasp the situation, her utter sorrow and pain were replaced by a fury she'd never known herself capable of feeling.

_That bastard. That complete and _utter _bastard._ She'd known he was a foul little prick, but she'd never believed him capable of such a cruel and despicable act. But, then again, he _was_ Lucius Malfoy's son. She guessed the apple didn't fall far from the tree after all.

Hermione shuddered, feeling-for the first time since she'd entered Hogwarts-as dirty as her pureblooded peers believed her to be. She sat up, stretching her legs and groaning as she felts so tender in several areas-mainly the back of her head and the area between her legs. She looked herself over; legs, arms but couldn't bear to inspect her more private areas.

In the darkness of the head's common room, the shadows that played across her skin looked more like scum rather than shades. She rubbed at her legs but it was still there, just as it was all over her body.

Hermione scratched and picked furiously, digging into her skin and trailing blood all over her body. _Dirty. _She was so _dirty. Gods, why won't it come off?_ The grime, the dirt, the scum...it was everywhere. It shrouded her body: her teeth, her toes, her messy hair and face. Everything. She wanted to tear her skin off but knew it wouldn't help because her insides felt just as filthy.

She didn't know what to do.

Hermione got to her feet, still scratching, and made for her wand which she'd spotted poking out from underneath one of the armchairs surrounding the fireplace. She darted up the steps and into the bathroom as quickly as her aching body would allow, slamming and locking the door behind her.

She scourgified herself three times over and sank into a scalding bubble bath, letting herself slide beneath the surface of the water and remaining there until her lungs felt on the verge of bursting. When she resurfaced, gasping and spluttering, she looked down at the water which was now turning pink from the dirty blood she was shedding.

She couldn't have that though and made to get out of the tub, slipping in her haste and falling to the tiled floor on her hands and knees. She growled in frustration and slammed her fists down to the wet floor, before she reached for the sink counter and pulled herself up.

Looking into the mirror was what sent her over the edge. The person staring back at her wasn't the same one she'd seen after her shower this morning. She wasn't the same Hermione that had been smiling brightly at the prospect of having Potions first thing in the morning.

No. This person was different. This person wasn't Hermione, but a poly-juice potion replica gone terribly wrong. This person's hair hung limp and wet, dripping pink water over her breasts and stomach. Her face and body were marred by scratches and a nasty bruise had formed over a good portion of the right side of her face. Malfoy had caught her perfectly over the cheek and eye.

And Merlin, her _eyes_...they were so hollow, devoid of any warmth and contentment. They now held only anger, disgust and loathing.

Hermione lost it, then. She let out a loud, gut-wrenching sob, grabbing the first object in her line of vision and flinging it at the mirror. It shattered, spraying little shards of glass at her. Hermione turned her face and let them hit her. Let it hurt, but a few seconds later the scent hit her and she realized what she'd chosen to destroy. Malfoy's cologne, and now that _stench_ wafted over her, filling the lavatory and overpowering her senses, making her eyes sting and tear. She couldn't stand it-spicy and musky-it reminded her of _him._ Of _him _on top of her,of _him _ _raping her_ and she had to leave then.

She darted out of the lavatory, stepping on the stray shards of mirror littering the floor. She didn't care, however. She hardly even felt the pain or the way they dug into her feet as she slammed the door shut. At that moment, she cared about little more than forgetting about herself, about _Malfoy_ and everything that had taken place throughout that Merlin-forsaken day. At that moment, she just wanted to sleep.

Hermione collapsed onto her bed, still almost completely soaked, naked and bleeding and sobbed herself into a restless slumber.

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**Sooo...review? Let me know what you think. I like the feedback.**


	4. Contention

**Hey, guys. Thanks to all of you who reviewed and added me to your alerts and favorites. You're all awesome. Even you..yes, you! XD**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the story. They all belong to J.K. and I am making no profit. This story is purely for my own enjoyment, and yours too of course.**

**Anyways, this is the much anticipated (I'm sure) confrontation between Draco and Hermione...boy I wouldn't want to be a fly on the wall during this conversation, but I'm sure all of you are glad to be. So...enjoy?**

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**Chapter 3: Contention**

Draco spent the rest of the day running about the grounds. If he got too tired, he'd collapse on the floor and give himself a few minutes to recover before he was off again. The exercise, the ache in his muscles, and the struggle to breathe distracted him somewhat. He didn't think, only moved. Subconsciously he felt that maybe if he kept running, stayed on the move, he'd escape his problems, except in reality he knew that he could apparate half-way across the world and his "problems" would still be there.

He kept running, however, and before he knew it, he was hearing the clock toll the 10 o'clock hour.

Draco collapsed and this time remained on the floor, panting. He lay on the browning grass until the wee hours of the morning, gazing up at the night sky. It was a beautiful night. Crisp and clear, completely contrasting the way he felt inside.

He felt as though the world as he knew it had come to an end and this night, this beautiful night was the beginning of a nightmare he'd never awaken from. He felt he'd lost a part of his soul and that killed him, until he realized that he wasn't the only one who'd lost something. Granger lost something as well, that day. She'd lost her innocence. Something far more precious than his filthy soul.

The thought crushed him. Draco had spent so many years taunting Granger about her blood, but now? Now _he _felt like the filthy little mudblood. Now _he_ felt lower and more worthless than the ground upon which she tread. And the fact that she too would be sharing and living in this nightmare alongside him almost made Draco want to launch himself into the Black Lake, but he didn't.

Instead, he stood up and headed towards the castle. It was time to face the music. He was sure he'd find a mess of professors and aurors littering the head's common room, just waiting to take him in.

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Draco made it back to the common room 15 minutes later and whilst he _did_ find a mess, it wasn't at all the one he'd been expecting. He lit a few candles with a flick of his wand. The oriental rug was stained with blood-_her blood_- and her clothes were still strewn on the floor where _he_ had thrown them earlier. Draco shuddered. The sight made him nauseous and he darted into the lavatory only to find another, more frightening, sty.

The mirror was shattered beyond magical repair, shards of glass littering the counter, sink and floor. The room reeked of him and he noticed that she'd used _his_ favorite expensive Italian cologne in order to destroy the mirror. He figured that was alright, though, since he'd destroyed her life.

Draco stepped further into the loo and nearly slipped. The floor seemed to be doused in some sort of pink water, however when he chanced a glance into the tub he realized it wasn't _pink_ water it was _bloody_ water. He gasped, eyes widening in horror. _My Gods, what have I _done_?_ His stomach heaved and this time, he really did throw up. First, on the floor before him and all over his precious, dirt and grass covered, dragon-hyde boots and then into the toilet.

He puked until he felt there was nothing left in his stomach and then moved away from the porcelain god and towards Granger's door, not bothering to clean himself off or wash out his mouth.

Draco was surprised to find her door unlocked. He thought he'd be blasting it open, but one twist of the knob revealed the Gryffindor Princess' room.

He murmured to himself, "You'd think she would've barricaded herself in the room after-" he couldn't complete his sentence aloud, however, because he remembered that the person she should be protecting herself from was _him_. _He _had been the one to hurt her and _he_ was the one that she should have been scared of.

Draco shook his head to expel those thoughts. He couldn't do this now. He had to make sure she was alright...well...alive, at the very least. He knew he was taking a big risk entering her room, but he wouldn't be able to sleep until he knew she was still breathing, that he hadn't unknowingly killed the Head Girl. Well, he was fairly certain he wouldn't be sleeping either way, but he had to check on her. He felt he could use the peace of mind, if only to slightly ease the overwhelming guilt and worry that seemed to be seeping from his pores.

He stepped closer to the bed, pulling out his wand and murmuring a Lumos once he stood at the foot of it.

What Draco saw, he almost couldn't comprehend. His expression was completely aghast as he took in Granger's small form, sprawled out on her back on top of her maroon comforter. Her arms and legs were spread out and her body...her beautiful, naked body was covered in scratches and dried blood. "Did I do this?" he asked himself. No...he was certain he hadn't done this to her body. He hadn't taken it that far, but he might as well have.

Draco took a deep breath. He knew she was alive by the way her bare chest softly rose and fell. He couldn't stand the sight of her. It sickened him to see the untouchable, unstoppable Hermione Granger like this. Even more so because it was all his fault.

He lifted his wand and parted his mouth, ready to heal all of her wounds, when Hermione's eyes flickered open. "Come to finish me off, _Malfoy_?" She spat his name as though it was a particularly rotten flavor of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, but stared up at her canopy, not wanting to set her eyes upon the boy who'd desecrated her.

Draco started at the sound of her voice and dropped his arm to his side. He noticed that she made no move to cover herself and it saddened him because he'd once made the mistake of walking into the loo while she was in the shower and she'd hexed him so terribly that it had taken weeks for Madame Pomfrey to remove all of the boils. Now, though, she just lay exposed and uncaring.

"No...Granger, I-"

"You what, Malfoy?" she slowly sat up and looked him in the eye, clearly incensed. "Wanted to revel in my defeat? Wanted to kick me when I'm already down?" she paused, but he didn't say anything, only stared down at the floor, knowing damn well that he was in for it and that he completely deserved whatever she planned on dishing out.

"What, Malfoy?" she asked again, her voice rising with every word she spoke. "What? What could you possibly want from me, now? Another go?" At that, Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione didn't let him speak. "Is that it? Come back for more, have you? Enjoyed raping the filthy mudblood, did you?"

Draco finally managed to get a word in edgewise but when he spoke, it wasn't what either of them had been expecting. "Can you please put some clothes on?" he couldn't bare to look at her like this.

Hermione let out a sound somewhere between a disbelieving laugh and a sob, her eyes narrowing into slits, but still she did not cover her body. "You sicken me." Her voice was a harsh whisper as she stood up, off her bed and stalked towards him, stopping a mere foot away. Now, he could clearly see the bruised side of her face and he flinched back, knowing that he was _definitely_ responsible for that one.

"_You SICKEN me!"_ she repeated, louder this time. "You're disgusting, Malfoy, you fucking prick, I swear!" She was yelling now, so utterly furious. Draco had never heard her swear so forcefully before, especially not to a person. Her face was completely red, save for the side that was bruised and her chest heaved uncontrollably. "How dare you? How _dare_ you barge into my room after what you did to me? How dare you ask _anything_ of me after you _RAPED_ me?" Draco cringed at her second use of the word, knowing she was completely correct. He had no right to sneak into her room. And for what? To ease _his_ mind? _She _was the one that needed easing. _She_ was the victim here. _Not him_.

"Wasn't this..." Hermione continued, her hands sweeping down her body in an effort to emphasize its nudity, "what you wanted badly enough that you'd take it sans my consent? And now you want to ask me to cover up? After_ YOU_ tore my clothes off?

"You fucking bastard," she sobbed out. "You _fucking BASTARD_ get out of my room!"

"Granger-"

"_GET THE _FUCK_ OUT OF MY ROOM, MALFOY YOU _SICK FUCK!" she was shouting at the top of her lungs now and it frightened Draco to see her that way. He tried to reach for her and she slapped him. Hard.

"Get out, or I swear to Merlin I'll fucking kill you."

Hermione's voice was deadly calm and Draco knew she was serious. He backed away and turned towards the door. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he murmured as he walked out.

Hermione screamed and grabbed a book off her trunk. She chucked it in his direction but only managed to hit the closing door. From the bathroom Draco heard her shout, "Fuck you, Malfoy! Don't you dare apologize to me! Don't you fucking _DARE!_" It was silent after that until he heard her collapse into loud, anguished sobs and that was all he could take.

Draco stalked through the lavatory and into his own room, destroying anything and everything in his path; quills, books, photographs, clock- everything hit the floor and everything broke. He reached for a photograph of Lucius Malfoy and sneered.

In the photo, his father dusted something off of his robes, looked up at the camera and smirked. Draco felt that smirk being aimed at him and could almost hear his father's praise. Could almost see the pride in his eyes and it sickened him to think that he'd once longed for it.

Draco let out a furious growl, throwing the picture frame at the wall with such force that it broke in pieces against the stone. Breathing heavily, Draco backed into his bed and sat down. Placing his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, he began to sob.

How could he ever forgive himself for what he'd done? And worse, how could _Granger_ ever forgive him for what he'd done? Unfortunately, Draco knew the answers to both of those questions.

He wouldn't and neither would she...

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**Yikes...I don't know who to feel sorry for, here...but, you can always give me your own opinions, eh? What do you say? Review? I'll give you a cookie :)**


	5. Dirty Little Secrets

**(AN) PLEASE READ THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

**So, I got a review for the last chapter and I just wanted to remind my readers that, with the first post of Like Father Like Son, I also posted a warning which quite clearly stated there would be dark themes in the story. It also clearly forewarned everyone about the rape. Now, I don't want to sound mean, I really don't but I posted said warning for a reason and if you happen to find these dark themes offending, well...I'm not forcing you to read this now, am I? If you don't like my story, then don't read it. **

**I also wanted to put this out there: I DO NOT, BY ANY MEANS, CONDONE RAPE, NOR DO I SUPPORT RAPISTS. This is a purely fictional story, with fictional characters and a fictional plot. By writing this, I am not trying to make you all believe that rape is an act of love or that we should all feel bad for rapists because they're the real victims. LFLS is JUST A STORY and again, if you know the themes will offend you then don't freaking read it. Simple as that.**

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**Now, I want to thank those of you who reviewed my story and added me to your favorites and alerts. It really means a lot and knowing that you all are enjoying it really motivates me.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the story. They all belong to J.K. and I am making no profit. This story is purely for my own enjoyment, and yours too of course.**

**Sooo, onto the next chappie...Enjoy?**

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**Chapter 4: Dirty Little Secrets**

Draco awoke the next morning to the bright rays of the morning sun, entering his room through his balcony doors. He groaned pitifully. His head was pounding and his entire body was incredibly sore. He rolled over, onto his back and shook his head trying to dispel his headache and the images still lingering in his head from last night's dream.

No luck. It was less of a dream and more of a nightmare, really. A seriously twisted fucking nightmare. One in which he performed unspeakable acts of cruelty unto a crying head girl.

In the nightmare he raped her. Over and over. He raped her and enjoyed it. He laughed in her face and taunted her. He beat her and Merlin there was so much blood. It was everywhere and all he did was laugh cruelly as Granger struggled against him.

"Fuck, what a sick dream," he mumbled as he sat up, throwing the covers off his body. Draco swung his legs over the edge of the bed and felt something sharp dig into his feet as they hit the floor.

He cringed and finally opened his eyes to get a look at the offending object, but as soon as his eyes scanned his room, everything came back. It felt like a rogue bludger had flown straight into his gut, sucking out all the breath he had with its blow, as he remembered the night before; why there was glass digging into his feet, why his room was in complete shambles and why he'd had such twisted dreams about Granger.

He felt he'd be sick again but knew his retching yesterday had completely emptied his stomach. There was nothing left to throw-up. He did become sick, however, but in a different way. A worse way, if it was even possible. He was sick with himself. Gods, he felt like a fucking monster. His heart was doing something weird in his chest. It was wrenching and fuck it felt like it was being twisted and pulled straight out of his chest. Goddamn it hurt. It hurt so bad, he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

Draco's fingers wound their way into his hair and yanked. His breathing was quick and shallow. The room seemed to spin and he was pulling so hard that a few strands of hair gave in to his fingers' wishes and tore themselves from his scalp.

He shook his head much more forcefully now, but it didn't help any because the images from the prior days events just kept flashing through his mind in quick succession. Over and over he watched himself rape Hermione Granger and he couldn't make it fucking stop. He pounded a fist against the side of his head repeatedly, groaning in agony but the images kept coming, becoming even more explicit and though he'd previously thought he was incapable of puking again, his churning stomach told him otherwise and he bolted into the bathroom, digging the glass further into his feet and barely even noticing it.

He lunged at the toilet, his mouth spewing nothing but bitter stomach acid for a few minutes before calming itself marginally. He knelt before the toilet of the shared, head's dorm and attempted to steady his breathing.

After a few moments he looked around the bathroom, stomach twisting slightly at the sight of it and knew what he had to do. He stood up off the floor and made to clean up the mess he'd made…the literal one, at least.

He began with the bathroom and made his way into his room. He cleaned everything up by hand, the muggle way because he felt he didn't deserve to use magic for his task. It would be much too simple to just flick his wand a few times and leave the rooms looking squeaky clean. No. he needed to do this by hand. There was no easy way out of what he'd done.

It was the common room that he was dreading because he knew her uniform, her underwear and her _blood_ would still be all over the floor, but he swallowed the dread and headed down the stairs. He tried to take deep, even breaths as he scrubbed at the blood stained rug. He went at it until his hand was cramped up and sore, but the goddamn stain just wouldn't come out completely. _Fuck_. He'd just have to leave it as it was. A brutal reminder of what he'd done to the head girl.

Draco turned to her uniform and undergarments glaring at them and feeling an unbearable amount of self-hatred. What should he do with them? Should he give them back? Maybe lay them at the foot of her door? Or should he just destroy them? He was almost certain she wouldn't ever want to wear the garments again, but was still unsure. Glancing at his watch, he realized he'd missed breakfast and had but ten minutes to make it to class. He grudgingly picked up Granger's things, holding them as far from his body as his arms could take them and rushed up to his room. He decided he'd just hide them in the farthest, darkest corner of his closet until he figured out what he should do with them. Another dirty little secret.

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He made his way down to class, twenty minutes late and scared for his life. He had DADA first thing and dreaded the glare he knew he'd receive from Snape.

Draco Malfoy had always been a master of indifference. He'd always known exactly how to keep his emotions hidden and bottled up deep inside of him, but that day, that Merlin-forsaken day, he couldn't for the life of him keep his emotions in check. He didn't know how to hide the terrible thing he'd done from everyone else and feared that it showed on his face and in his very demeanor.

No longer did he strut down the halls of Hogwarts as though he owned the bloody castle. No longer did he sneer and laugh at his idiot classmates. No. Now he walked down the halls of the school with his head hanging low in shame. He'd changed overnight.

Now all Draco wanted to do was disappear into the stone walls, to be invisible and ignored. It was quite a change from his normal behavior, his wanting to stand out…to be feared and noticed by all of the students, and even the faculty of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

That evening, when he'd made it to dinner, Draco was surprised that he'd gotten through the day without being called to the Headmaster's office. He wondered why Granger hadn't yet spoken to Dumbledore or McGonagall about the incident and figured she just wasn't yet fit to leave her room. The thought tore and ate at him until he almost wanted to turn himself in. He was going insane with guilt and hadn't the faintest idea as to what he should do.

And as if his day hadn't already been shitty enough, while he was making his way out of the Great Hall, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley ambushed him. Coming up on either side of his person, making it clear that they wanted to talk and weren't leaving until they'd heard whatever it is they wanted to know. Draco gulped, anxiously.

* * *

Waking up that morning had been a bitch. Hermione opened her eyes, flipped onto her stomach, burying her face into her pillow and promptly began to cry. _Don't cry, Hermione_, she scolded herself. _He'll only derive more pleasure out of seeing you this way._

But she couldn't seem to make herself stop. Couldn't seem to keep her mind from replaying the event, from replaying the way he slapped her, or the way she awoke to find him moving over her, _inside_ of her, grunting…oh, Gods and the pain she was in. The back of her head throbbing terribly, her face ever so tender. She was sore all over-especially between the legs-and the scratches all over her body stung something fierce.

She was feeling all sorts of awful and so it took her most of the day to get her wits about her and amble out of bed. Hermione used the toilet-wincing as it stung to pee- brushed her teeth and showered, scrubbing her body ferociously over and over, even reopening some of her unhealed scratches.

She noticed that the mess in the bathroom had been cleaned up and thanked Merlin that there was no mirror with which to look at her awful reflection. Once she was done, she threw her pajamas on and crawled back into her bed.

Just as her breathing evened out and her eyes were drooping closed, a knock on her door startled her awake. Hermione sat up against her headboard and bent her knees into her chest. She eyed her door warily, but made no move to get out of bed. She feared one of her professors had noticed her absence and, finding it so strange that she of all people would skip class, had decided to come find her.

The knock came again and then one more time, before she heard Malfoy's voice, a little muffled, through the door. "Granger?" There was a pause in which she said nothing, silently seething at the fact that he dared knock on her door or even attempt to speak to her after what he'd done.

"Granger?" he asked again, slightly louder this time. And when she still didn't answer, he sighed and went on. "Hermione! I know you don't want to speak to me, but Potter and Weasley are outside, looking for you."

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**Sooooooooo...REVIEW? PRETTY PLEASE WITH A DRACO, OR HERMIONE, ON TOP? I really do enjoy your feedback :)**


	6. Questions and Concerns

**Hey, all sorry about the absence, I'm juggling three stories at the moment and all of the other ideas popping into my head, also my job has become quite hectic. I work overnights in a toy store and the holiday season is complete chaos for us. Not to worry, however, I will try to update all of my stories fairly and regularly and I won't post any of my other ideas until I've completed at least one of them. All I ask for is a little patience on your part and of course, please don't stop reading.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the story. They all belong to J.K. and I am making no profit. This story is purely for my own enjoyment, and yours too of course.**

**So, here is chapter 5 of LFLS...Enjoy?  
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**Chapter 5: Questions and Concerns  
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Draco waited outside her door for another minute in silence and sighed. He'd known before the first knock that she wouldn't be answering the door for him. She hated him, after all, and rightly so. He'd fucked her, quite literally and he knew she'd probably never show her face in his presence again.

And while the thought stabbed through his heart like a knife, he had no choice but to be okay with it. He'd just hoped that she would react to the mention of her friends' names. That she'd want to see the gits and let them comfort her in any and every way that they could. Hell, a small part of Draco even hoped that she'd tell them what he'd done to her. That they'd come after him and avenge her innocence.

The guilt of it was killing him, threatening to swallow him whole and he didn't know how much more of this he could take. How much more shame and self-hatred his heart and mind could dish out before he completely shut down.

With a sigh, Draco ran a hand through his hair as he turned back to the stairs. As he walked back to the portrait hole, he wondered at what he would say to Hermione's friends and tried his darnedest to come up with a believable excuse, however once he took a look at their concerned expressions, the best he could muster up was a guilty, "Guess she's not here." While a hand came up to rub at the back of his neck.

Apparently his answer hadn't been very convincing as Potter and Weasley were automatically suspicious.

"Well, where _is_ she?" Potter queried and when Draco shrugged, emitting a noncommittal sound, Weasley jumped in.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

After a tense round of Twenty Questions, which ended with threats to his life, Draco stalked back into the common room, plopped onto an arm chair and proceeded to broodingly stare into the fire in the hearth, until his eyes eventually drooped and fell shut.

* * *

The next couple of days passed in much the same fashion. Draco would go through his meals and classes with his head hanging low as if the guilt of what he'd done was literally weighing down upon him.

He'd become extremely paranoid. He couldn't help but look over his shoulder every few minutes or to stare down any faculty member that came his way. And the worst part? Potter and the Weasel just would not seem to stop _badgering _him with their questions and concerns. He was fairly certain that they'd begun to get suspicious of him, more so than usual at least.

Draco hadn't heard Hermione so much as make a peep since _that night_ and he guessed the only time she'd use the bathroom was when he was either out or asleep.

The only reason he even knew that she'd even been using the lavatory was because her muggle body wash and shampoo were _much _lighter every time he returned to the common room after dinner. He figured she'd been washing an awful lot lately and hated to think of the reasons propelling her to seek out that sort of cleanliness.

He was becoming immensely worried about Hermione's mental and physical health. He knew she wasn't eating and if she didn't emerge from that room soon enough, she might starve to death...that is, if she didn't do anything rash before then.

Finally, on the third day, Potter and Weasley brought professor McGonagall with them to do the questioning. The trio caught up to him just as he was leaving the Great Hall after a tense dinner with his housemates.

"Mr. Malfoy!" She called out from behind him.

At the sound of her voice, Draco's body went rigid. His heart beat furiously against his ribcage as he slowly turned to face the Gryffindors and their head of house. _So...this is it,_ He thought. _The moment of truth_. He'd known it was coming. Had known that Hermione couldn't keep it all in forever. But...when he turned to face them and took in the sheer concern and curiosity in all three sets of eyes, he sighed, partially in relief and partially in disappointment.

There was no anger, well no more than usual, and only the slightest hint of suspicion. So. She hadn't told them.

"Mr. Malfoy," said the old bat. "Potter and Weasley have come to me out of concern for Ms. Granger. Would you happen to know what's been going on with the head girl? She's missed the last few days of class and I'm certain you know how unlike her that is..."

Draco glanced from McGonagall's face, to Weasley's, to Potter's and then back again. _Fuck_. He could tell that they truly didn't know. That they were merely concerned about Hermione and wanted to make sure she was okay. _Shite_. His chest was aching and his head was pounding and he couldn't put the memory of raping Hermione Granger out of his head. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake it.

He guessed this was the Gods' way of testing him. If he turned himself in, told the truth, he'd pass. If not, well the rest was painfully obvious. He thought on it for a long moment and eventually let out a sigh.

Draco was guilty. Oh, so guilty and he hoped to _Merlin _that it didn't show on his face. For, although his conscience begged for Draco to turn himself in, he wasn't at all ready to face the likes of Azkaban and the Dementors. He was a bloody coward.

What would the Gods do to him for failing so terribly? Would it be worse than rotting in Azkaban for the rest of his life? Worse than making out with a bloody Dementor? Oh, he had a feeling their castigation would _immensely _surpass anything the Ministry or even The-Boy-Who-Lived could possibly dish out.

_Well...its not as if it wouldn't be well deserved..._

Pushing those thoughts to the farthest, darkest crevices of his mind, Draco cleared his throat and took a deep breath, then went on to say that he hadn't heard a peep out of Granger in the past few days which was, at least, some of the truth.

However, when he turned to leave, and started towards the Head's common room, the trio simply followed along. Draco slowed down and watched as McGonagall and her two Gryffindors stalked passed him in the same direction he himself had been heading.

"I'll have to check Ms. Granger's room, Malfoy."

* * *

By the time they made it up to the dorm, Draco was sweating and by the time McGonagall spoke the password and they passed through the threshold, he was about ready to turn on his heel and run.

His feet, unfortunately, were glued to their spot beside an armchair as he watched the Deputy Headmistress and her idiot Gryffindorks walk up the stairs and knock on Granger's door.

* * *

Hermione lay in her bed, buried beneath a mountain of covers. She was sobbing silently- as was all she seemed to be doing these days- on the verge of falling into a fitful sleep, when she heard a knock on her door.

"Ms. Granger?" Her favorite professor's voice was urgent as she beckoned her through the door. "Are you in there?"

Hermione darted up and off the bed, desperately wiping her tears away and cringing as a careless hand brushed over her bruised eye. She paced back and forth for a few seconds, heart beating wildly in her chest and silently freaking out. She mouthed a few obscenities to herself, at a complete loss as to what she should do. Another knock at her door, however, and McGonagall's voice calling her name sprung Hermione into action.

She cleared her throat and answered, in what she hoped would be a normal, tear-free voice. "Yes, Professor?"

"Ms. Granger," her voice was relieved as she continued on, completely oblivious to her dearest student's harried movements behind the closed door. Hermione hurried about her room, carlessly donning a fluffy midnight blue bathrobe and matching slippers. "You haven't been present in any of your classes...is everything alright?"

"Y-yes, professor," said Hermione as she glanced in her vanity mirror. She made a disgusted face as she turned her head to the left and to the right, appraising the hand-shaped bruise and random scratches marring her face. She raised her wand, pointing it at herself and muttered a few concealment charms.

By the time Hermione opened her bedroom door, her face looked good as new. Not scratched, or bruised. There weren't even any red rings circling her eyes to let her professor know she had been crying. Hermione was sure no one would be the wiser.

She wasn't surprised to see Harry and Ron flanking their professor, so there was nothing but a mien of utter sincerity masking her features as she lied to them for what would become the first of many times to follow.

"I'm sorry," she said, breath hitching as she caught sight of Malfoy down the stairs standing beside an armchair. Hermione quickly returned her eyes to those of her friends and professor. Noting that they hadn't noticed her little lapse, she continued with her lie. "I've just been feeling terribly under the weather. I've been in bed these passed few days, only getting up to use the loo, but otherwise I've been sleeping like a baby."

She graced them with an uneasy smile and a contrite little laugh and continued on, all the while purposefully ignoring the platinum blonde boy whose silvery eyes seemed to be burning wholes into her very soul. "I apologize for having caused you lot to worry, but I assure you I am fine."

She couldn't bring herself to look any of them in the eyes as she said this. She felt terribly guilty for lying, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. To admit it out loud. To point her index finger at the spot where Malfoy stood and shout, "He's the reason I've been absent from class! He _raped_ me!" though her mind was _begging _for her to do so.

Instead, she smiled again and said, "Professor, I will be back in class tomorrow and will, of course, make up all the work I've missed."

"I apologize, Ms. Granger, but I'm afraid I must give you a detention for skipping class and not bothering to notify the staff, go down to the hospital wing or even ask your fellow Head for help. School regulations, I'm sure you understand." McGonagall looked apologetic as she hated to have to send her favorite student to detention. "Tomorrow night at 8:00 with professor Snape."

Hermione chanced a glance at Malfoy and then down at her fuzzy slippers. She hated detention, hated to have it on her record and hated having to spend it with Snape even moreso, but if it would get her out this common room. Get her away from _him_, well then she'd gladly spend the rest of the _year _in service to the greasy git. "Of course, professor." She began to close the door. "Now, if that's all, I'm still a little tired and must rest up for class tomorrow."

Just before she was able to close the door, Harry shoved his foot in between it and the door frame, effectively stopping his best mate from shutting them out."'Mione, can we talk to you?"

It was easy enough to believe Hermione when she lied, for she rarely did so and was terribly believable on the rare occasion that she told a little fib, but the fact remained that each and every time that Hermione felt under the weather, it was a battle to get her down to the infirmary and they had to practically restrain her from taking off to class if she was too sick to attend.

If left to her own devices, she'd infect the entirety of Hogwarts if only to be able to attend her classes and take down her notes, so it was odd to see her willingly skip class only to stay in bed and sleep all day. A deed she'd always told them was terribly unproductive and wasteful of good time.

Hermione thought he looked a little suspicious and forced a yawn. "I really am tired, Har-"

"It'll only take a minute or two..._please_?"

_Shite_. She couldn't stand when Harry made that face. His eyes so honest, innocent and caring. It was his take of the puppy dog pout and the prat knew it always worked on her. She couldn't help but relent.

Hermione sighed and stepped back from the door, opening it a little wider. "Okay. Come in."

McGonagall took her leave, wishing her student a good night's rest and a speedy recovery. She didn't protest to the boys stepping into her dormitory. She knew those three and therefore knew there was nothing inappropriate going on. She did, however, know that something was off with Ms. Granger, she just couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

* * *

As the door to her room fell shut, Hermione was ashamed at the mild anxiety she felt at being alone in her room with her two best mates. She knew them. Knew that she was safest in their presence, but that knowledge still didn't dispel the nervous fluttering in her stomach or the way her heart sped up as they seated themselves on her four-poster bed.

She took a deep breath, still standing a few feet away from the door. "What's up, boys?"

Her two best mates glanced at each other before looking back at Hermione. They opened their mouths in unison, sounding very much like Fred and George at that moment. "We want to know what's going on."

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**Well...there it is. A reviewer asked me why Draco didn't just turn himself in if he felt so terribly about raping Hermione and I'm sure more than a few readers must have been wondering the same thing. I hope this chapter took care of that question...and besides, I need Draco at Hogwarts. Sending him to Azkaban would totally thwart my plans...**

**And thanks to **Sapphire1031 **for the heads up. I've already implemented your advice.**

**PS- I'm working on making the chapters a little longer so bear with me for now.**

**And umm...REVIEW! PRETTY PLEEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE, with a Draco- or Hermione ;)- on top XDDD if any of you have any questions or concerns of your own, or just want to make some suggestions, I'd be happy to hear you out and answer them. SO, don't hesitate to drop a review or two, or three...or a hundred...  
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